


Heatrush

by Baneberry



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Consentacles, Dubious Consent, F/M, Hate Sex, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 05:19:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11029455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baneberry/pseuds/Baneberry
Summary: Two enemies in heat stuck together. Smut as old as time, cliches as old as rhyme, Arcee and the be-tentacled beast.





	Heatrush

**Author's Note:**

> A rushed little piece I wrote for [this prompt](https://maccadams-filthy-fills.tumblr.com/post/160848077188/tfp-arcee-and-soundwave-sounders-using-his). Basically, heat induced hatesex with tentacles.
> 
> Cleaned it up to post on AO3. I tag this as dubcon because it is heat induced and therefore the lines are blurry.

It wasn’t an ideal situation, but it was the situation Arcee and Soundwave found themselves in.

And it would just have to do.

Arcee never, in a billion years, imagined fucking a Decepticon. Soundwave wasn’t much different when it came to Autobots-–or probably anyone, for that matter, since he never showed any particular interest in anyone or the subject. Nonetheless, biology waited for no one, and even during a war where trust was a joke, Cybertronian heat cycles still came and still needed to be met.

It just so happened Arcee and Soundwave were stuck in their ruts, so to speak, trapped together and right in the middle of a rough brawl. It was the fighting that might have triggered the reaction. The revving of engines, the hard pulsing of sparks and energy and electricity, the sheer adrenaline shooting through their circuitry.

It was an almost wordless agreement.

Fuck and forget. Changed nothing between them.

A temporary alliance to work out the heat fogging their minds and keeping them from more important duties. Enough trust so neither would kill the other, but nothing more required. Arcee and Soundwave didn’t need to love or even like one another to interface anyway.

With help slow to arrive, Soundwave and Arcee made their silent pact and went into action.

Arcee pinned Soundwave against the wall, straddling his lap and grinding down against his heated codpiece. Soundwave’s tentacles uncoiled and curled up and around the smaller Autobot, hovering and studying her frame.

Arcee snarled, struggling at first, as two tentacles snatched her wrists and held them above her head. Tendrils ticked and tacked against her chestplate before latching on like suction cups. Energy vibrated through the conduits into her armored chassis, down her torso and up along her neck and shoulders.

Arcee moaned, wiggling and rolling against the quivering, rumbling tentacles. “O-Oh, scrap…” she murmured.

Distracted, Soundwave’s long fingers ran down her thighs, petting her panel. Arcee whimpered as her plating slipped aside, exposing her leaking channel. Her folds were engorged and twitching, and he could feel the heat coming off her actuators. Soundwave slid one spindly finger inside, rubbing against her anterior node curiously.

Arcee groaned, arching back. The tentacles attached to her chest sent out two hard jolts, and she nearly screamed. Soundwave continued fondling and groping the node until it was rock hard. Feeling his own erection straining, his codpiece parted, allowing his unit to pressurize and release just one droplet of transfluid.

The Autobot gasped, lifted off Soundwave and into the air. She was jerked back, her top half hitting the ground on her back while Soundwave kept hold of her legs. He pried them open, and Arcee’s optics flushed violet at the sight of two more tentacles gliding toward her channel. Soundwave hummed something; one tendril closed its gripping claws together into a funnel shape. It pushed its pointed tip shallowly inside her channel, waiting.

Arcee chewed her lip, panting with anticipation. Another harsh whiplash pulse to her torso and spark chamber, and the tentacle dove inside her channel. The cone of claws spun, slow at first, but even then Arcee was reeling and cursing, fighting at the appendages restraining her hands. The claws increased speed, spinning faster around her mesh channel walls, moving in deeper inch by inch.

“Frag!” Arcee keened, engine snarling and overheating. “F-Frag!”

The second tentacle found her anterior node, nudging it before closing the blunt tips of its claws around the nodule. It started tugging, twisting a little.

Arcee yelped.

Soundwave listened to the Autobot’s cries and moans, watched her body writhe and rut in the air; the tentacle in her channel twirling and rotating and vibrating. He released one of her legs, silently grabbing his unit and pumping it in his fist. Slow but heavy strokes so he could enjoy the show longer.

Arcee cried out as the tentacle in her channel ripped out. She was suddenly turned around, her vision doubling, the appendage holding onto her anterior node flipping along with her. She was on her knees now, the tentacles around her hands yanking her down until her face just about bashed into the ground. Soundwave could get a better view of her channel from here, and the tentacle from before went right back to work, diving into her channel and silencing any complaints from the flustered Autobot.

“S-Scrap, nnn,” Arcee hissed between clenched teeth. The tentacle was moving deeper inside her, bumping against the edge of her tanks. It still didn’t feel like enough, however, and she ground back, wanting to take more, needing to take more. Soundwave let her suffer in her heat a few minutes, enjoying her pouting and huffing and desperate whines. Finally, the tendril playing with her node withdrew, lined itself up with the tentacle probing her channel, and wormed its way in.

Arcee threw her head back with a keen, optics rolling back into her head. The pain was nothing; her actuators and mesh walls quickly stretched to accommodate the second tentacle. The burning sensation settled into something overwhelmingly pleasurable. Whimpers and groans and noises that made Soundwave pump his unit faster spilled from her lips with little beads of coolant. The tentacles writhed, thrusting ruthlessly in and out of her channel; sometimes in tandem, sometimes back and forth, forth and back, a chaotic rhythm with hard jabs.

Arcee’s body rolled and shook with each blow, her plating and armor rattling as she whimpered Primus’s name yes yes oh Primus p-please–-

Soundwave twitched, his visor glitching. He could only imagine how she looked, making those noises, pleading and demanding more. Arcee squealed as she was lifted off the ground and into the air by the tentacles alone fucking deep inside her channel. One appendage broke away from her hands, leaving the other to take them both.

Arcee was turned around, lowered back onto Soundwave’s lap, her hands held above her head. Just like before. Her hooded purple-blue optics rolling back, panting as her tongue hung limp from her moist, pretty lips. Her chestplates hot to the touch from the tentacles massaging armor, circuits, and the spark beneath.

“Yes! Y-Yes!” Arcee wailed, delirious. “Harder! Harder!”

Soundwave made a noise, a deep rumble in his chest. The tentacle idling nearby swung back; Arcee grunted as it pushed inside her mouth. She choked, shaking her head as it worked its way past her intakes. “Ghhk!” she croaked. Eventually, her actuators relaxed, and she willingly started sucking the appendage now sliding in and out of her throat, occasionally pulling back to her teeth before diving down again.

Soundwave changed his mind.

Arcee winced as the tentacle was yanked abruptly from her mouth. The same appendage shoved her down, and Soundwave laid her back, until she was face to face with his unit. The tentacles wiggling in her channel pulled out, readjusting. Soundwave took the Autobot by the back of her helm, guiding her mouth down over his unit. Her throat was pliant enough to take the whole thing; he shuddered at the feel of her throat clenching around him.

Arcee looked up at Soundwave, her cheeks hollowed as she sucked with the same Goddamn intensity as a vacuum. Soundwave continued thrusting her head up and down for her, and the choked noises she made vibrated through his trembling unit. Finally, Soundwave let her go, sitting back; Arcee continued slurping loudly, obscenely on his cord. She dragged her lips up the shaft, popping the head out of her mouth; lashed its slit with her tongue then dragged it up and down the length of his unit.

Arcee, too, enjoyed the Decepticon’s trembling.

On the edge of overload, Arcee took the unit back in mouth and sucked with the same speed and intensity of the tentacles in her channel. Climax hit like a ton of bricks, and Arcee’s entire body went stiff. Her optics widened, and then she was crying around the unit in her mouth as her aft thrust up into the air. Transfluid gushed out from around the tentacles buried inside her, her low whiny whimpers dragging out until she finally came down and the charge settled.

Of course, it wasn’t enough.

The charge would soon return, and Arcee would be in heat again. Help would be arriving any minute now, they both knew. Soundwave impatiently grabbed the sides of her helm, held her head still, and fucked her throat with ruthless snaps of his hips. His crotch ground against her face, and Arcee’s surprise settled. The feeling of being used... A tiny flame, and a new charge blossomed between her legs, in her spark.

Soundwave overloaded a minute later, holding his hips against Arcee’s face. Transfluid gushed down her throat, and Arcee could only swallow some of it, choking and spitting out the rest. With his unit depressurizing, Soundwave let the Autobot go.

Arcee sat back, transfluid spilling from her lips and trickling between their bodies. She coughed and wiped off her mouth, only smearing more of the mess on her face.

Hell, seeing Arcee covered in his fluids, her quivering channel stained purple and wet and dripping-–Soundwave was all ready for round two.

“N-Not bad,” Arcee sneered, “for a Decepticon.”

Soundwave’s optical band winked before displaying the number 6.

“Outta ten?” Arcee scoffed. She smacked away a tentacle cuddling her side. “Scrap to that.”


End file.
